Just moments ago, Xu Xiliu had been carefully tending to the man’s hands, gently using tweezers to extract shards of glass embedded in his palms. After the bleeding had stopped, he noticed the man’s fingers twitching, as though about to clench. Alarmed, Xu Xiliu quickly pressed them down, determined not to let his hard work go to waste before he could properly bandage the wounds.

It wasn’t until he had secured the man’s hand that Xu Xiliu realized the male lead seemed to be regaining consciousness. Leaning in to check on his condition, he was suddenly met with a single word.

“Mom.”

For a moment, Xu Xiliu’s mind went blank.

Was his appearance really that feminine? Or did he emit such an overwhelming maternal aura that Qin Li mistook him for his mother?

It was absurd.

Even now, thinking back on it, Xu Xiliu found the whole situation ridiculous. But when he looked at the dazed, unfocused eyes of the male lead, he swallowed his frustration. What was the point in arguing with a delirious patient?

He kept his smile intact, even stealing a glance at the door to make sure Butler Zhong hadn’t overheard that earth-shattering declaration. If he had, the awkwardness would’ve been unbearable.

Fortunately, the hallway outside was silent.

Xu Xiliu let out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling as though he had narrowly avoided secondhand embarrassment.

Turning back to the man on the bed, Xu Xiliu found that after uttering that single word, Qin Li had closed his eyes once again, seemingly lulled back to sleep by the sedative. His breathing was steady, his expression peaceful. He didn’t seem to care about Xu Xiliu’s earlier act of covering his mouth. He looked almost serene in his slumber.

With the usual brooding aura softened by sleep, all that remained was a fragile paleness, making him appear heartbreakingly vulnerable.

Xu Xiliu lowered his hand and studied the man’s tranquil face for a moment, allowing himself a brief moment of relaxation.

He let out a quiet huff.

Then, resigned, he resumed his task, applying medicine to the now-bleeding palm and carefully wrapping it in layers of gauze.

By the time he finished, over an hour had passed since his arrival at the villa. The night had deepened, and the rain had finally stopped, leaving only the occasional drip of water from the eaves, a soft, rhythmic sound that filled the silence.

Xu Xiliu stood, stretching, rubbing his temples as exhaustion from the late-night ordeal settled in. Though he was no stranger to fatigue, it never got any easier. Who wouldn’t prefer to be tucked up in bed at this hour?

He methodically packed his medical supplies back into his kit.

As he mentally calculated the time it would take to drive home, he grabbed the kit and stepped out of the room.

Butler Zhong was waiting just outside.

Xu Xiliu delivered his report professionally. “Mr. Qin is asleep now. When he wakes, he should be back to normal. I’ve bandaged the cuts on his hands and treated the other abrasions on his body. Just make sure his hands don’t get wet for a while.”

He kept his explanation concise, omitting deeper advice—like avoiding triggers or seeking specialized psychological therapy—knowing it would fall on deaf ears. After all, the plot demanded drama, which was exactly why he had been summoned here in the first place. His role was to act as the dutiful doctor and exit stage left before getting entangled in the mess.

After listening, Butler Zhong peeked into the room, relief softening his expression at the sight of the peacefully sleeping man. “Thank you for your hard work, Dr. Xu.”

“Just doing my job.”

For that million-dollar salary.

Xu Xiliu smiled politely.

Just as he was about to leave, Butler Zhong stopped him again.

“It’s very late, and you’ve already gone to so much trouble coming here tonight,” Zhong said. “Why not stay the night? Rest a bit and leave in the morning?”

Xu Xiliu hesitated.

It made sense.

But…

Digging into the original owner’s memories, he recalled that staying over wasn’t uncommon—especially when called out at ungodly hours. Given that this would likely happen again, there was no need to stand on ceremony.

“Alright,” he agreed readily.

The butler led him to a guest room and discreetly excused himself.

Too tired to inspect his surroundings, Xu Xiliu simply freshened up and collapsed onto the bed. Just as he was about to surrender to sleep, he remembered—his phone was still in the male lead’s room.

With a groan, he sat up.

Not much time had passed since he’d left Qin Li’s room, and the butler had likely returned there to clean up. If he hurried, he could retrieve his phone without having to enter alone—which would feel awkward at best, and suspicious at worst.

The guest room was some distance away, so Xu Xiliu moved quickly, determined to make this a swift trip.

But halfway there, he ran into an unexpected figure.

The man stood at a corner, speaking quietly into his phone. Spotting Xu Xiliu, he quickly ended the call and approached with a smile. “Dr. Xu? It’s quite late—where are you headed?”

Xue Bo subtly eyed the young man’s hastily thrown-on coat. “Has something happened to the master? Are you checking on him?”

Xu Xiliu recognized him as the male servant who had greeted him at the villa’s entrance earlier—though his attitude had been far from welcoming.

At the time, urgency had overridden his annoyance, but now…

Xu Xiliu mirrored the man’s polite smile. “No, I just left something in Mr. Qin’s room. Since it’s not too late, I thought I’d retrieve it now.”

As he spoke, he tried to place the man’s identity.

Upon closer inspection, the servant’s uniform was as neat and formal as the butler’s. Was he also a steward?

Two butlers in one villa? That’s a recipe for power struggles.

Searching through the original owner’s memories and the novel’s plot, Xu Xiliu pieced together that this shrewd middle-aged man was likely the villa’s head servant—a quasi-steward overseeing staff. His wife was the head cook, solidifying the family’s influential position in the household.

Xu Xiliu inwardly nodded, though his pleasant expression never wavered. To any observer, he was just a harmless doctor on a simple errand.

Satisfied, Xue Bo relaxed and didn’t press further, clearly eager to avoid any association with the “madman.” With a nod, he hurried off, seemingly preoccupied.

Watching the man’s retreating back—and the faint glow of his phone screen still visible through his pocket—Xu Xiliu raised an eyebrow.

This guy’s definitely hiding something.

But the original owner’s memories offered little insight. As a no-nonsense physician who came, treated, and left, he’d paid scant attention to the household’s inner workings. The only reason Xu Xiliu even recognized Xue Bo was because the man had introduced himself eagerly when the doctor first arrived.

Shaking off the thought, Xu Xiliu continued toward Qin Li’s room.

The faint light spilling from the slightly ajar door reassured him.

Good, I made it in time.

His steps slowed as he approached—only to freeze at the sight of a pale, elegant hand gripping the doorframe, veins standing out starkly against the skin from exertion.

A second later, a figure who absolutely should not have been awake at this hour appeared in the doorway.

Tall and gaunt, Qin Li stood unsteadily, leaning heavily against the door for support. His sickly pallor was even more pronounced under the light, his black hair disheveled and falling into his eyes. Each labored breath made the silk pajamas ripple slightly, hinting at the frailty beneath.

Wasn’t he supposed to be knocked out by the sedative?

Xu Xiliu stared in disbelief.

The man seemed lost in his own world, not yet noticing Xu Xiliu’s presence. Though he didn’t appear to be in the throes of an episode, his gloomy, unhealthy aura was enough to make anyone wary.

Then, abruptly, he looked up.

Their eyes met.

Xu Xiliu’s heart skipped a beat, but he quickly schooled his expression into a gentle smile. “Mr. Qin… good evening?”

Qin Li said nothing, his lips pressed into a thin line, a sheen of sweat glistening at his temples.

The weakness in his limbs disgusted him. His grip on the doorframe tightened, as if he could crush the wood through sheer willpower.

When the silence stretched, Xu Xiliu realized the man was attempting to walk—unsteadily, his gaze unfocused, as though on the verge of collapse.

Alarmed, Xu Xiliu rushed forward to steady him.

The moment Qin Li’s weight settled against him, Xu Xiliu nearly buckled under the unexpected heaviness.

How is someone this thin so dense?!

And taller, too, making supporting him even more awkward.

It was like expecting to lift a sheet of paper, only to find a sandbag instead.

For a split second, Xu Xiliu regretted his decision to help.

Straining to keep his voice even, he asked, “Shouldn’t you be asleep

, Mr. Qin? What do you need? You could have called for someone.”

Qin Li allowed himself to be supported, eyes squeezing shut in frustration.

His consciousness hovered between clarity and haze—clear enough to recognize the effects of the sedative, yet muddled by the gnawing pain in his stomach, which had woken him in the first place. This painful lucidity only amplified his self-loathing, trapping him in a vicious cycle of reliving his own helplessness.

Pathetic.

“…Here to laugh at me too?” Qin Li muttered, voice dripping with scorn.

Xu Xiliu, struggling to keep them both upright: “?”

Excuse me?

If he’d wanted to laugh, he would’ve just let you faceplant on the floor.

And let’s not forget who called whom "Mom" earlier.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, Xu Xiliu maintained his pleasant demeanor. “Why would you say that, Mr. Qin? As your personal physician, isn’t it my duty to care for you?”

Qin Li scoffed.

The pain in his stomach worsened, sapping what little energy he had.

Half his body leaned against the younger man, his head bowed, gaze dark and weary. The warmth radiating from the other’s body was almost surreal—comforting in a way that felt like a cruel illusion.

He knew this was his personal doctor, assigned to him shortly after his exile to this villa. But this was the first time he’d heard such words from him.

Care for him.

Hah.

With sudden, inexplicable strength, Qin Li reached out and gripped Xu Xiliu’s chin, forcing his face up.

There was no denying the doctor’s striking features—now tilted upward in surprise, the golden glasses missing, leaving his peach-blossom eyes fully exposed. The natural redness at their corners lent them an almost alluring charm beneath their usual gentleness.

How obedient he looks.

Qin Li’s gaze slithered over his face like a serpent before his hand slid down to encircle the slender throat.

“Then what about this?” he sneered, fingers tightening incrementally. “Will you still care now?”

The veins on his pale hand stood out starkly, leaving no doubt that he could snap the fragile neck with ease.

Caught off guard, Xu Xiliu blinked.

What’s his problem now?

Feeling the man’s weight still partially on him, Xu Xiliu subtly loosened his hold.

Instantly, the smirking menace slid downward, knees hitting the floor with a thud.

“……”

Xu Xiliu swiftly hauled him back up, propping him against his shoulder again with an apologetic smile.

“Oops, my hand slipped. You alright there, Mr. Qin?”

Qin Li: “…”

He let out a cold laugh.